


Ghoulies and Ghosties

by Spotsy



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic, Halloween, Man From Uncle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spotsy/pseuds/Spotsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon and Illya stay the night in an old house and have a strange encounter.</p>
<p>Originally written for the Halloween Challenge 2012 on LJ.  Mrua wanted a gen story involving both of the boys to go with this picture (seen below).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghoulies and Ghosties

He couldn’t help it. This place was giving him the creeps. All night long, the floors had been creaking in a suspicious manner, the shutters mysteriously opening and closing, the wind howling like a banshee in the otherwise eerily still night. 

Napoleon shivered and wondered if it was only a coincidence that this night-- the night before October 31st-- should be the darkest night of the year. Normally, the darkness wouldn’t bother him, but tonight…

From the moment they had stepped foot in this house, Napoleon had sensed there was something very wrong about this place. But it was the only shelter they could find after miles of wandering aimlessly through the forest and THRUSH was more than likely still on their heels. THRUSH hadn’t really appreciated his and Illya’s little visit earlier that day. So he had been forced to choose between facing the vengeance of THRUSH or the dangers (probably imagined) that lurked in this old house. He chose the latter. He was starting to regret that decision.

Napoleon shifted his uncomfortable position on the old hardwood floor, then stiffened as a soft noise broke the stillness. He strained his eyes against the dark. “Illya?” he whispered.

“Hm?” 

“Did you hear that?”

“It was just a bat, Napoleon,” Illya muttered sleepily. 

Sleep. How could anyone sleep in a place like this? Obviously Illya could.

Napoleon couldn’t.

He sighed. Maybe he was just letting his imagination get the better of him, though Illya had oft informed him that he didn’t possess one. He squirmed in an effort to get more comfortable. Abruptly, his elbow came into contact with something softer than the wood floor.

A startled “Ow!” came from beside him.

“Sorry, Illya,” Napoleon whispered towards the shadowy bundle next to him.

The shadowy bundle let out a martyred sigh. “It is four o’ clock in the morning, Napoleon.”

Napoleon ignored Illya’s protest. “You know what today is, Illya?”

He could sense Illya had raised his eyebrows even in the dark. “Monday?”

“It’s the 31st of October,” Napoleon said in a spectral whisper.

“So?” 

“It’s Halloween, Illya.”

Illya sighed in irritation. “What is your point, Napoleon?” 

Napoleon didn’t have an answer for that. He wasn’t superstitious-- it was just a feeling he had. There was something… off about this place.

“I have a bad feeling about this place, Illya.”

“You’re just being paranoid. Why don’t you try to get some sl--”

“Shhh.” Napoleon held his hand up, listening. 

“What?”

Muffled footsteps sounded from the attic. “That.” 

Illya sat up. Napoleon knew his partner had pulled out his gun without seeing him-- he had done the same. Simultaneously, they both got to their feet. 

Cautiously, they walked through the now very silent house. Past the living room, the dining room, the kitchen… nothing. 

The footsteps sounded again, this time from behind them. Both agents spun around, crouched in readiness for a fight. But there was nobody in sight.

They resumed their search. Again, the sound of footsteps followed them. Napoleon whipped around, his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot…. but he saw nothing. 

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other. What the hell was going on?

Just then, the sound of pounding feet clattered through the next room. Napoleon could even feel the vibrations. His head swung towards the sound just as there was a sound of scraping furniture and more pounding feet. Following, there was a splintering crash and then-- silence.

Suddenly, Napoleon got an eerie feeling that someone—or something—was watching them. 

Napoleon turned… and froze. There, on the stairway, was a pale, translucent form slowly gliding down the stairs. 

The sight sent a cold chill shuddering down his spine. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. He and Illya stood as if transfixed, watching as the thing continued its noiseless descent down the stairs. Suddenly, it stopped and slowly raised its head, the glitter of malevolent eyes glowing through the transparent veil. 

Napoleon’s blood ran cold. Run! His mind screamed at him. The hazards of the night and the threat of THRUSH paled in comparison to the creature they had just seen.

Adrenaline now pumping furiously through his veins, Napoleon ran, stopping only to make sure Illya was beside him. In a blind panic, they wrenched open the door and fled from the house into the darkness beyond, neither stopping to look behind. 

Finding themselves in a clearing an indeterminable distance from the house, they came to a halt.

“Do you believe what you saw back there?” Napoleon demanded, still panting from exertion and the remainder of fright.

“No,” Illya replied without conviction.

Napoleon made a wry face. “Just think what a nice little report we’ll have to give to Mr. Waverly.” 

“Oh yes… I’m sure he would appreciate this little adventure of ours,” Illya said drily. “And so would Dr. Baines, I would imagine,” he added with a grimace.

Napoleon raised an eyebrow. Good point. “I won’t tell Waverly if you won’t.”

Illya’s mouth twisted up into a crooked grin. “I will be as silent as the dead.”


End file.
